Stolen
by CammyWhammy
Summary: Wendy left her window open for him to return, and return he did, but he is no longer an innocent little boy. He threatens to steal her from her home, unless she should come by choice! Wendy is then faced with Peter's true being, and returns to Neverland with him, where adventure and danger await them both. Thank you for reading, enjoy! I am always open to creative criticism.
1. The Warning

They had all come home. As if by a miracle, the children had been returned to the world. The Lost Boys, whose true identities were a secret and had completely lost their memories, clung to the Darling family for support. The Darling family, too soft to not rise to the task, had tucked them in cozily into every corner of their home. What would the neighbors say? Wendy wondered.

And although she was the one who had asked to go home, it was horribly plain that Wendy counted heavily on visits from Peter Pan. She had fallen in love, she feared. Wendy had given her kiss to an impossible boy, and as she was a Darling, she was too soft to not rise to the task. She would love this boy, and always, no matter what the consequence.

It was for this that even though the winter continued to grow colder, Wendy insisted on keeping the window open, and Mrs. Darling obliged. What was a mother to do, after all, if her child requested it?

"It's a matter of life and death!" Wendy had moaned when Mrs. Darling tried to shut the window one icy night. In fear for the health of the other children, Michael and John had been pushed from the tiny nursery to sleep warmly by the fires. Wendy, on the other hand, waited with bated, icy breath for the return of her true love.

He came, frequently in fact, but it was not always that Wendy would be awake to know. Every once in a while, he would walk inside to caress her cheek, or to touch her hair softly. She would know, of course, but she pretended to be asleep to continue lavishing in his presence. On a brisk autumn night, she woke up happily to find that her Peter Pan had fallen asleep strewn lightly over her like a heavy human blanket. Her heart was alighted with butterflies.

"Peter?" She whispered to him. He woke groggily, and upon realizing his position, flew back so quickly in shock that he hit the wall behind him and knocked over two small picture frames. Wendy leaped from her bed to chase after him, but he rebounded quickly from his fall and scampered out of the window like a frightened cat. She looked sorrowfully out the window to find that he had quite disappeared, and the sky was barren. How tall he had gotten over the past year! She thought. It was shameful that she could not deny that her feelings for Peter had grown, rather than diminish in time.

Another two years passed and Peter never dared to come into the house again, but Wendy saw his shadow cast by moonlight looming in over her every once in a while, and for now, that was enough. In the Darling household, boys were being sent away to take on trades and corners began to pop up empty in the home. Mrs. Darling was in tears of joy to see off her children, and waved them all away with pride. Wendy remained, but began to outgrow her nursery bed. The threat of a husband grew larger and darker over her, much like the Shadow of Pan.

Then one night, Wendy awoke sweetly to the sound of Peter piping on his pipes. She rose slowly, as not to startle him and peeked at his form leaning lazily over the window. He was tall and lean with adolescence. His arms and chest had outgrown his leaves and he had covered himself with a fabric that hung haphazardly from his shoulders. His hair had lost its boyish golden glow, and was replaced with a resplendent brown that hid within it an angry shade of red. Beside him, laid a long pole, which she had never seen him carry before. Peter looked at her from the corner of his eye, in which he kept Wendy's kiss carefully tucked into the crease. He did not startle when he saw that she was gazing at him, but instead stopped his piping, and stared back.

"You've grown." He said plainly. His voice was dark with deepness, and Wendy felt a thrill run through her as she beheld the man to which she had given her kiss to.

"So have you." She said. He shrugged, as if unfazed, then stood to approach her. The length of his shadow overtook her form as she fully took in his being. He took the pole, then held it lazily in his hand, as if it had always been a part of him.

"You've kept the window open." He said, coming face to face with her. She looked up at him, paralyzed by his beauty and wonder. It was strange that she had once been so confident in his presence. Now, she almost cowered from it.

"For you." She responded meekly. He cocked his head to the side.

"To tease me?" He asked. Wendy shook her head in bewilderment.

"No!" She denied.

"Then why? Do you wish to go away with me again?" Peter said, reaching softly for her hand to pull her towards the cold winter night.

"But… I can't…" Wendy moaned, and she pulled her hand away. Peter dropped his hand and it turned to a fist beside him.

"Then why?" He asked, the boyish rage bubbling up beneath his grown-up exterior.

"Well…" Wendy started shyly. "You must know that I love you, Peter." She admitted. He rolled his eyes.

"Love…" He said mockingly. "What do you know of love?" Wendy flushed.

"More than you." She shot back.

"Ha!" He said, pounding the staff-like pole into the ground. Small amounts of fairy dust spouted from the end, and Peter twirled it in his hands easily to shoo them away. Wendy's eyes burned through the glittering haze.

"You do not love me Wendy Darling." Peter said, under a thin veil of hurt. Wendy opened her mouth to protest, but he kept on. "If you did, then you would come back to Neverland with me."

"Oh, Peter, but I do love you!" She persisted.

"Do not offend me with such lies!" He cried out. His voice breaking back to the voice of his boyhood. Wendy was silent, stricken, and scared.

"I love you, Wendy." Peter began. "You belong to me, and I will have you back. It was foolish of me to ever have let you leave."

"What would you have done? Kept me by force?" She said, her anger mounting. He stared at her calmly.

"Yes, I should have," He replied. Wendy stepped back in shock. "But I would much rather you come on your own." He finished with a softer tone.

"Peter- I… You know I must grow up. There is so much life that I need to live!" She begged. He took in a deep breath, stung by her desire to grow up.

"You cannot grow up, Wendy. I will not let you." Peter said. "Your brothers, the Lost Boys… I let them all go because you wanted me to, and all I ask in return… is your hand." He said extending his hand to her. Wendy knew that he must not have known the meaning in taking someone's hand, but then again, did he? This character was much stranger, much darker than the Peter she knew, and still… she was pulled even more towards him. His presence was magnetic, mysterious and strange to her. He was a secret that she must know, but at what cost? She looked at his hand and clenched her own to her chest. When she did not take, Peter dropped his hand and stepped back towards the window.

"You have some time." He said. "Think it over. I will come back, but wait too long and I will break this window to steal you from here." He warned. Wendy shivered in the sudden chill that overtook her. Peter looked into the emptiness of the night, then back to Wendy's stricken face and he clenched his jaw. Peter groaned in frustration, then stamped his way towards her and pulled her harshly into a kiss. Wendy was too shocked to react as she we crushed by his lips. He wrangled his hands into her hair and held her face to his, then suddenly, released her. Wendy gasped at the suddenness of the kiss, but found that her heart had begun a rapid tattoo and her stomach had filled with toxic want. She stepped forward to claim another and he laughed at her.

"I told you, Wendy. You belong to me." He said, thoroughly pleased at his effect on her, before he flew back through the window and into the night.

Wendy was left in her cold room, to think about what had happened. She could almost not remember their words, as Peter's kiss had violently wiped away her thoughts. She made to crawl in her bed, and found that she was shaking. From the cold, from fear, or from excitement, she did not know. Maybe it was a little bit of all three. Her heart did not settle that night, as she could absolutely not take her mind from Peter. She wanted him. She wanted to be taken by him, even, just to experience more of his wild nature. But dear god at what cost… at what cost?


	2. Facing Fear

The next few nights, Wendy watched the window ominously waiting for him to come back and take her. As much as she loved adventure, she was repulsed by his volatile nature, and for the first time, feared Pan. But it was to her horror that she found that the fear excited her more. Night became titillating for her. Her heart pounded when she saw swift shadows cover the moon. Wendy knew he was watching, and she was right. He was.

Her nights grew sleepless and dark. Her heart grew heavy with anxiety at Peter's next return. If he had not been so demanding, would she have come with him on her own? She had once, three years ago, but had asked to return.

What Wendy could not understand, was why Peter had grown so dark? In fact, why he had grown at all? She did not know how deeply she had wounded him the night she had left to grow up. He was damaged in ways far beyond emotional. And yet, she had kept her window open to him. He struggled with the meaning of it, and the result had left him bitter and vindictive.

Wendy's heart was between her love for Peter, and her newfound fear of him.

One clouded, frigid night, Mrs. Darling came into Wendy's room and gasped at how cold it had become. Wendy was stubbornly shivering beneath her many blankets. The fire in the fireplace was struggling to compete with the freezing air. Mrs. Darling walked quietly to stoke the fire in an attempt to warm her only daughter. Wendy was awake, and tonight, love was not winning over fear. Tonight she only remembered Peter's threat to take her by force, and she wished her mother would stay to protect her.

"You can close the window…" Wendy whispered shakily. "If you like…" Not needing to think twice, Mrs. Darling rose quickly to shut it firmly, and even locked it. Finally, her daughter had come to her senses. Mrs. Darling came to Wendy and peeled back the many layers of blankets to kiss her daughter's cold cheeks. Wendy stared lovingly at her mother, and wondered how in the world she had ever conceived of leaving her home forever.

"I love you." Wendy said softly. Mrs. Darling smiled, and small tears welled up at her cheeks.

"I love you too, Wendy. So much." She replied. Rubbing her daughter beneath the blankets to warm her.

"Can you turn on the night light?" Wendy asked timidly. Her mother chuckled.

"The night light? But Wendy you are nearly grown!"

"'They are the eyes a mother leaves behind to guard her children,'" Wendy quoted. Mrs. Darling smiled endearingly at this, but her brows furrowed in worry.

"Of course," Mrs. Darling replied. "Of course."

And so, she lit them, and the window grew dark and blank with the illumination of the room. The fire revived in the enclosure of the room, and for once, Wendy was warm. She fell asleep into a dreamless dream, in which no shadow crossed the moon.

The thought of Pan seemed to diminish in the pleasantness of her sleep. No longer was she peering at the window expectantly. Wendy slept, undisturbed, even if the window rattled wildly against the strong winds that had once tormented her sleep. As the nights passed calmly by, Wendy became less troubled by him. Mrs. Darling, reassured by her daughter's willingness to move past this strange childhood delusion, had invited Wendy to come out into society and begin her turbulent search for a husband. Before Pan had threatened to take her, Wendy was horrified by husbands, but now felt an odd need to grab hold of someone and be away from her childhood nursery. Mrs. Darling took Wendy from party to party to meet as many eligible bachelors as possible. It was very disappointing, then, that no eyes caught hers quite like Peter's vivid green ones had years ago, and she was shocked to find that she missed him. The more young men she met, the less like Peter they all were. The more boring, the more average, the more…awful. She returned one night, feeling distraught.

"Did you not like that young boy who did maths so well?" Mrs. Darling pried. Wendy moaned.

"No, he had no imagination!" Wendy replied. Mrs. Darling sighed.

"What do you expect? A husband is there to share your life, and to protect you. Kindness, honesty, and a sturdy disposition is all you need, Wendy!" Mrs. Darling insisted. Peter had none of those things.

"Well I expect…" Wendy began in thought. "I'd expect him to fly…"

"Fly?!" Mrs. Darling laughed. Then she looked to her daughter, as if she had made a joke, but her face fell when she saw that Wendy was serious. Her daughter's delusions, then, had not completely gone. Wendy turned angry. She hated when her mother looked at her that way, as if she were pitiable. Wendy knew her mother did not believe in Peter Pan, and had thought Wendy mental for it. What will mother do when Peter finally does steal me away? Wendy thought. Then, maybe her mother would believe. Wendy enclosed herself in her room, and went to bed without supper, tormented by feelings of turmoil and uncertainty.

The spring was creeping into March and the puddles of melting snow froze in the night air. Wendy was sleeping in her warmed room, now inviting from the roaring fire. She slept peacefully, with the troubles of the day before pushed from her mind. All was quiet until Wendy became roused from her sleep as she heard her window shake against some stubborn wind, but softly fell back asleep. Then, the snow from the roof slipped and fell into a clump on the sill, and awoke her again. The wind rattled unnaturally from her window and Wendy feared what she would see if she dared investigate. Her heart was strangely alight with butterflies, fearing yet strangely hoping the disturbance was Peter Pan. Maybe she could reason with him? Maybe he would understand how she loved him still, even if she had wanted to grow up. Gathering her strength, she slowly rose to look at what rattled the window. A fogged print of a hand lay on the window, as if someone had tried to force it. Peter had indeed come back for her. She closed her eyes hard and buried herself in her blankets, trying to pretend she had not seen. She gathered her strength to face him once more. But for now, she hid, delaying the encounter. A figure settled on the sill and she could see his silhouette shadowing the wall beside her.

"Wendy…" Came his dark voice muffled through the glass. "Wendy, I know you're awake."

The window shook and Wendy was horrified to realize that all of those windy night had simply been Peter trying the window. He had never left her.

"Wendy…" He continued in an annoyed tone. Wendy held her breath as he tried the window again then slammed his fist against it, making Wendy jump in fright.

"Wendy open the window…" He said in a strangely soft tone. "Come on, I saw you. I know you're awake." Wendy's heart was beating in her eardrums as she contemplated. Slowly, she peeled the blankets back and stood to see Peter at the window. He was standing on the sill, his hand sprawled against the glass, and he looked at her fiercely displeased. His eyes caught hers and his frustrated grimace softened. She felt stricken by his glance and it resounded horribly with her resolution that no other boy or man had ever had this effect on her.

"Come closer." He said. Wendy obligingly moved towards the window, even if her legs had turned to jelly. Her heart was beating fast, and she stood atop her old toy chest to meet his height. He observed her lazily. Taking in long stares and glances at her form unabashedly. Wendy tried not to shrink away from his study of her and Peter pulled his lip in to bite it. She felt exposed and wrapped her arms tightly around her.

"Wendy… open the window." Peter said sweetly.

"No." She responded. He banged hard on the glass and she jumped. He clenched his jaw in annoyance.

"Open the window. It's time. You're coming with me." He threatened.

"No, I'm not." She said, holding her ground. He groaned angrily, and his breath fogged the glass between them. How long would Wendy keep pushing him away, and how much longer would he have to endure it? He rolled his eyes childishly and leaned his forehead on the window. He was still a little boy, getting upset when he did not get his way.

"Well at least just let me come in… for a little while." He said. Wendy looked into his eyes and they were soft and yielding. She had not caved to his demands, and he was left powerless with big words and no fight.

"You will steal me away." She replied. Peter huffed, as he knew he very well wanted to.

"I will break this window!" Peter warned. But he had yet to break it, and it seemed to Wendy that he was bluffing. She tested her theory.

"No, you won't" She said. "Not if you want me willing." Peter groaned, for he really did want her to come by choice. Wendy placed her hands on the glass where his were, and she felt the heat from his hands on the other side. Peter pulled his hand away to observer her fogging palms on the glass, then placed his hands back over hers. The softness of the gesture dissuaded Wendy's fear of him. How could she have thought he would hurt her? Wendy knew now that he wouldn't break the glass. Although he had back come to her, teeth baring, he had told her he loved her and had even asked for her hand. But surely, he could not really want to take her as his wife. That would be… preposterous. Peter? A Husband? Unimaginable.

She relaxed her body onto the cold window and Peter looked at her horrified as her figure pressed against the glass. Peter grazed his hands against the glass as if to touch her figure and growled in aggravation at the offending barrier between them.

"Do not tease me, Wendy." He groaned. Wendy was ignorant of her effect on him.

"You can take me when I'm ready, but it's not tonight." She said.

"It will be soon." He warned. "You are mine, Wendy. Understand? I want you to come on your own, but I really will break this window."

"Am I yours also?" She asked. The question made him furrow his brow and he gestured broadly at their situation, as if what she had asked had a stupidly obvious answer.

Wendy smiled, and felt easy with Peter for the first time a long while.

"I will let you in," She began. "But I cannot leave tonight. I must say goodbye to my family."

Peter sighed, but had very little choice but to concede.

"Fine." He said. Wendy looked at his still boyish face in contemplation, then unlocked the window to observe his actions. Peter smiled and pulled the frame up, letting a gush of cold air hit Wendy face on. The wind tousled her hair and cold crept up her legs in the breeze. Peter made his way slowly inside, bringing his strange long pole with him to lean on the wall. Wendy shrank as the protective barrier of the window disappeared.

Peter made his way to her and stood tall as if to intimidate her. She reached up to kiss him on the cheek, breaking his bravado. He pushed her away annoyed.

"If I can't have my way, then neither can you." He grumbled. Wendy smirked and leaned up to kiss him softly on the lips. He had had enough of her teasing him, and his countenance snapped. He returned the kiss hungrily and pushed hard against her mouth, prying her lips open. Wendy gasped at the intimacy of it. She had never been kissed like this before. She meant to pull away but he held her waist and pulled her tightly against him, his hands grasping at the fabric of her nightgown. She had teased him too much, and he kissed her with vengeance. She turned her face from his ravenous kisses and his mouth found the sweet flesh of her neck. He bit her there and sucked hard. Wendy moaned at the sensation, but felt frightened by the unfamiliarity of it, and pawed at him to break free. He would not let her. Then he was at her cheekbone, licking up to her ear to suck at her earlobe. She heard his frantic breathing as he lavished her, and she grew hot with desire. Wendy then pulled him closer, and the game was over. Suddenly he released her and backed away, analyzing the damage he had done. He was pleased with his work. Wendy was flustered, disheveled and breathing heavily. She was in shock, and suddenly embarrassed.

"I told you not to tease me, Wendy." He said cockily. Wendy stared at him in bitter annoyance. It very much bothered her how he always seemed to have his way with her.

"I will have what I want, when I want it." He continued. "I just don't think you're ready for that yet."

Peter then leaned in to sweetly kiss her at the corner of her mouth. Wendy was appalled that she melted to it.

"You're lucky I'm waiting for you Wendy, not all boys would be so patient." Peter said whispering in her ear. Her mind was so clouded by his advances that she could not respond properly.

"Thank you" She said dumbly. He smiled at her.

"You're welcome." Peter then grabbed the pole leaning on the wall and twirled it in his hands. He looked at the window, and into the open night. Peter's face fell into solemn contemplation and he sighed heavily.

"When I do take you… I hope you will not fear me." He said looking at Wendy to spy her reaction. Wendy's face twisted in confusion.

"Why would I fear you?" She asked. "I love you." Peter could not help but smile at her confession, even though he did not wholly believe it.

"Wendy, I know you know who I am, but have you ever thought of what I am?" He asked. She tilted her head in thought.

"You're Peter Pan…" She began. "You're the boy who refuses to grow up. The prince of Neverland-." Peter chuckled.

"It's true, it took me an awful long time to grow up." He said shrugging. Wendy then became disturbed. She realized that she really did not know the nature of Peter Pan. In a way, the mystery of him had intrigued her, and she never thought to solve it. How strange that he was growing up now, when he never had before?

"And Neverland?" She asked. He shrugged again, but his eyes became glossy as he made to look at the ceiling. A silence overtook them, and Peter grew weary of the questioning. He cleared his throat as an unwelcome emotion had settled there, and stepped into the frame of the window.

"Keep the window open, Wendy." He said seriously. "Always." Wendy scoffed.

"You get annoyed that I leave it open, then angry when I close it… What is it you want, Peter?" She asked.

"You." Peter said plainly, "And I will steal you either way, it's just much simpler when it's open." He said smirking, his usual humor returning to him. She huffed.

"Soon, Wendy." Was all he said before he disappeared again into the night.


	3. The Proposal

Wendy was too excited by Peter's advances to go to sleep easily that night. Peter, although stubborn and prideful, had not taken her away. Instead he had come quietly in to her room and made her feel... She hid her face in embarrassment. She did not know how to feel about the way he kissed her. He was forceful, and it had scared her, but she wanted more. Her heart beat thickly in her chest as she recalled the way he had sucked at her neck. What kind of animal kisses a woman in such a way? It thrilled her to her core.

The next morning, Mrs. Darling made to wake her daughter, and was heartbroken to feel the familiar cold air rush in from the room. Wendy had opened her window again. She must be married fast, thought Mrs. Darling, before her delusions overtake her again. Mrs. Darling loved her daughter, but she knew she was unconventional, and odd.

"Wendy…" Called Mrs. Darling, softly shaking Wendy from sleep. Wendy awoke to find her mother holding a burgundy colored dress in her arms.

"Wendy, we are going to another party tonight. We want to look our best! I have a feeling this may be the one!" Mrs. Darling said in feigned excitement. Wendy gasped at the beauty of the dress, and ignored her mother's threat of a party.

"Let's see if it fits!" Wendy said. She rarely got to wear such daring colors, and it was a thrilling experience. Mrs. Darling smiled and began to loosen the dress. Wendy stripped her nightgown and garbed her underthings. Wendy's mother slipped the gown over Wendy's head, which was still tousled from sleep. The cut was low and feminine, exposing her collar and shoulders. Wendy gasped as she saw how resplendently the color suited her. She pulled her warm brown hair up from her back to twist into a lax updo and gazed into the looking glass. A woman stared back at her. Not a child. Wendy could hardly believe it. She was finally a woman.

"Wendy!" Her mother said in alarm. "What's happened to you?" At first, Wendy thought she was being offered a compliment, as if her mother could hardly believe how fast she had grown. But then she felt her mother's delicate fingers touch her against her neck where Peter had so naughtily suckled. Wendy turned her head to see an angry red mark puckered with blood.

"Oh." Was all Wendy replied.

"Oh?!" Her mother returned angrily. "Oh?! Wendy what is that?" Wendy thought of how to explain without making it seem completely horrid.

"Peter was very cross that I had closed the window…" She tried to explain. Her mother clasped her hand to her mouth. She did not know what to say to her daughter. Mrs. Darling contemplated the existence of the mark. Could it be a rash? Self inflicted? Certainly it could not have been a flying boy. They stared at each other in silence and Wendy shrank under the gaze of Mrs. Darling, which analyzed her in that woeful way Wendy hated so much. Mrs. Darling's shock faded, and turned into a soft smile.

"No worries…" Began Mrs. Darling. She unpinned Wendy's hair to fall over her offending shoulder and sighed. "No one will notice it now." Wendy tried to offer her mother a smile. It was strange to her, that her mother would continue to pretend Peter was not real, despite the physical evidence. But it seemed that Mrs. Darling clung hard to her logic and sense, and would not be shaken from it. Her mother stood to leave, but pressed a long kiss onto her forehead.

"I love you, Wendy." Her mother said. Wendy pulled her mother into a tight embrace.

"I love you too, Mother." Wendy replied. Mrs. Darling stood.

"Well… I must go now. Lots of things to do for tonight. I am sure you will find him, Wendy. Your future husband is coming, I feel it!" She said optimistically.

"Mother…" Wendy began. "Can I not marry Peter Pan?" She asked. Mrs. Darling's face fell, but she did not lose her disposition. As much as she loved her daughter, it was so hard to see her fall victim to such dreadful fantasies.

"No, Wendy." She replied. "Peter is… not of this world." Mrs. Darling replied, trying to cater to her daughter's delusions. Wendy furrowed her brow.

"But he's asked me." Wendy said. "And I think I've said yes, but… it means I will never see you again."

Mrs. Darling held her breath, and waited for motherly words to soothe her daughter.

"Wendy, nothing in this world or the next could keep me from you. Understand?" She said resolutely. Wendy nodded, and noticed for the first time that her mother was crying, if only a little. Mrs. Darling smiled softly and left the room, determined to find Wendy a husband by the end of the night, lest her daughter's colorful imagination descend to insanity.

Mrs. Darling had gone for most of the day, and Wendy would not take off her dress. She played with the remaining lost boys, pretending to be a red plague which killed sailors with a single touch. They ran, and she chased wildly in her hindering skirts. She did not kill very many sailors that day, as they were all slippery as fish. She had even attempted to sing like a siren to draw them in and was laughed off as the boys claimed her voice was not sweet at all! These boys were so clever in escaping death.

The time to leave for the party came too soon, and Wendy felt very reluctant to leave. Her mother was unusually determined tonight, and she felt this would be her last night of girlhood. Tomorrow, she may be walking down a church aisle, and then what of Peter? She took in a shaking breath as she stepped through the threshold of her front door, and into her uncertain future.

They had to walk, since most of their family's funding had gone to the caretaking of stray boys. Wendy was glad for it, as she enjoyed the exercise and it helped to clear her mind. It also offered her the opportunity to search for the skies. After last night, it seemed that Peter was about her always. That he was always watching her now. 'Soon' He had said. But how soon? And if so, was she ready to leave? Well, she certainly would want no one else. Her thoughts occupied her for the remainder of the walk and too quickly they were faced with the ominous front doors of a complete stranger. Mrs. Darling knocked briskly on the door.

"Remember, Darling." Her mother said encouragingly as they waited to be ushered inside. "If someone asks for your hand, say yes. Someone better may come along and we can change our minds that is no matter, as long as you leave here engaged." She said, giving Wendy's hand a reassuring squeeze. If Mrs. Darling had meant to boost Wendy's spirits, she was gravely mistaken. Wendy was horrified that their search had led them to such a desperate tactic. Tonight. She would leave here engaged tonight. But to whom? Peter's wonderful face overtook her mind. No one else, she felt. No one else. She no longer felt so ravishing in her burgundy dress and she picked at it, hoping that for once Peter would not be so obliging to wait, and steal her away. When the doors were swung open, Wendy failed to offer her hostess the smile she was supposed to offer as she was too occupied in her distraction.

"Ah! Mrs. Darling!" Cooed the hostess. Mrs. Darling did her part in pecking the hostess' cheek in greeting.

"Mrs. Guerns! How lovely to finally meet at your home!" Mrs. Darling gushed. Wendy knew she was expected to follow in her mother's introductory customs but had turned her attention to searching the skies for Peter. Her distraction did not seem to faze her hostess however, as if she were accustomed to hosting rude young ladies without manners.

"This must be the lovely Wendy!" Mrs. Guerns said. At being directly addressed, Wendy pulled her attention away from her thoughts and finally offered her hostess a warm smile. Mrs. Guerns, dark haired and pretty, seemed elated at the small gesture. How odd, thought Wendy. Most people would have turned their noses up at her.

"Come in, come in!" Said their very warm-natured hostess. Wendy and Mrs. Darling entered the house and were greeted by lavish scents of confectioneries and small plates of charcuterie with cheese. The arrangements were casual, and no butlers rushed about shoving hors d'oeuvres up people's noses. There were many young men and ladies, most of them already engaged in conversation with one another. No one danced, despite the vivacious violinist in the corner who attempted to pull off a one-man orchestra version of Vivaldi. What a strange and inviting home. In the crowd of people, Wendy searched for a familiar face. At first there was nothing, but then suddenly, the green gaze of Peter captured her. She walked blindly towards it, loosing herself in the crowd. Her heart beat fast as she considered Peter being right here in this room. He was going to take her away. Tonight. She was ready. She would go. But whenever she caught a glimpse of him, he disappeared, and she found herself walking around the crowd in circles. The voices around her began to ring in her ears, and Peter was nowhere to be seen, had it just been her imagination? Horrified, she turned to see she had abandoned her hostess before she could be introduced to the rest of the hosts. Wendy felt suddenly alone in a room full of people already occupied with one another. She felt small, and scared, as her mother had disappeared with Mrs. Guerns. Then, Wendy caught sight of a strange young man playing checkers by himself in the corner of the room. The game was meant for two, and seeing an opportunity to hide in a corner the remainder of the night, Wendy rushed towards the chair. She sat down and waited to be addressed, but the boy, dark haired and lanky, did not register her presence. He continued to click and clack the white and black pieces to and fro, occasionally shaking his head and placing them back to their original spots, while Wendy searched the crowd for that dazzling green gaze. The crowd began to make her dizzy, and she felt for once in her life that she had truly been seeing things. She turned her attention back to the young man, who had graciously ignored her.

"Would you like to play together?" Asked Wendy, seeing if he would finally acknowledge her. He shook his head. It was clear he knew she was there, he just chose not to engage. Wendy sighed. What a strange place she had entered. She watched him play against himself for one more round.

"What is your name?" Wendy asked. He remained focus on the game.

"David." He replied quickly. He offered no further invitation to conversation. Wendy sighed and looked about the room. She saw the comforting silhouette of her mother and eagerly waved her over. Her mother waved back and made her way to the corner that Wendy had claimed, Mrs. Guerns in tow.

"Oh, how wonderful!" Mrs. Guerns exclaimed. "They've met by themselves!" The boy stopped playing and hit the side of his head with the palm of his hand, as if deeply perturbed by the interruption.

"Mother…" He groaned. What a strange person, Wendy thought. She had never seen a grown person act this way.

"David, this is Wendy! The girl I was telling you about earlier!" Mrs. Guerns continued, not discouraged by the strange mannerisms of her son. "Say hello, David."

"Hello, Wendy." He said curtly. Wendy looked at him, and saw him struggle to plant his eyes on her face. He would look over her left shoulder, over her right, then horribly at her breasts where he lingered. Wendy smiled, oddly not fazed by his strangeness.

"Hello David." She said. David smiled, then as if truly flattered by her introduction, and she saw that he was brilliantly genuine, if not a bit odd.

"David is studying to become a physicist, and has interesting theories about planets and orbits." His mother said. He laughed, embarrassed by this, and for the first time, managed to look Wendy in the eyes. His eyes were a warm brown.

"How interesting!" Wendy said, truly impressed by his perusal in science. He waved his hand dismissively at her, and his body straightened as he grew comfortable in the conversation. She could see, now, that he was handsome, if not awkward. He still could not stop from looking at her breasts, but it seemed now that it was not in a lustful manner, simply part of his oddity. The room grew suddenly loud, and the corner seemed stuffy with the oppressive mothers hanging over them.

"Would you like to go outside, to see the stars?" Wendy asked, doting on his interest in astronomy. He nodded fiercely and stood to walk to the patio, without even offering her to follow along. Wendy smiled and nodded dismissively to the mothers, Mrs. Guerns was almost in tears, and Mrs. Darling held a small smile, as if this was for the best. Wendy made to follow David to the patio. Wendy knew that this whole meeting was arranged. The party even seemed an after thought in retrospect. It was as if these two women had created an absurd simulated environment to encourage a meeting that happened naturally not three minutes into their scheme. And it was strange that Wendy did seem magnetized to the same corner of the room that he was in. Maybe mother did know best after all.

Outside, David was already craning his neck to the stars. Before she had even joined him, he shouted out pointing at the sky.

"The Pleiades! The Greeks used to use this constellation as a sight test. Depending on how many of the stars you saw, was how blind you were." He said laughing at his own historical fact. Wendy smiled and looked to see them. She was enamored by the stars, but for completely different reasons. She understood, now, why her mother had chosen this strange man for her husband. They were parallel, but not intersecting personalities. They could live happily together, maybe, without stepping on each other's toes. David kept his eyes to the sky, but his hand began to fidget wildly.

"Wendy. I am supposed to ask you to marry me." He said frankly. Wendy remembered her mother's advice and she scoffed. What manipulative hens their mothers were.

"I accept." Wendy said. "As long as no one else asks me later." David nodded.

"Good." Was all he said. Wendy had meant to insult him, to try to pry her way out of the question. But he had seemed unfazed by the jab, and Wendy found that she had just made herself engaged to be married.

"I'm very odd." Wendy said. David looked at his feet and furrowed his brow.

"You seem completely normal to me." He stated.

"I'm not…" She said. Interested, David made to look at her, but his gaze failed to grasp hers once more, and he stared over her shoulder.

"I… my mother says I have a very vivid imagination…" Wendy continued. But instead he laughed.

"My mother says I have no imagination." He said.

Wendy did not laugh at his joke. She paused before continuing. She hoped her oddities could make him retract his offer in marriage.

"My mother thinks... at least I think she thinks... that I am disturbed." Wendy admitted. David only nodded.

"How so?" He pried. Wendy stayed silent for a while, not keen to speak aloud her fantasies of Peter Pan. But she pressed on.

"I'm in love with a boy. A man. But… no one believes he is real." Wendy said in a hushed whisper. She had never told this to anyone, and she looked expectantly at David for his reaction.

"Have you seen him?" He asked analytically.

"Yes!"

"Smelled him, touched him, heard him?" He said.

"Yes! All of them, and look!" Wendy pulled her hair back to show him the mark Peter had given her. "Last night, he gave this to me." David's brow knitted together.

"That looks… medical…" He said unsure. "But your senses of observance… seem to be in check, maybe your senses of interpretation…" David said. Wendy flustered.

"So you think that I am mental?" She said. David managed to hold her gaze in his.

"I would never say that." He said. Wendy relaxed in his gaze. He seemed determined to accept her as she was. She had told him everything awful about her, even confessed that she was in love with a possibly imaginary person, and he still did not retract his offer. A small part of her was drawn to him for it. How wonderful to not feel strange. Wendy had lived, all of her life, torn between two worlds. Peter's and her own. It was odd then, that she felt he was crazy for believing her. The logic was not sound, and she began to question her own sanity. Was it all in her mind? Was her mother right? Was Peter only a fantasy? Suddenly the world seemed heavy and oppressing. How real was Peter, really? She felt the corners of her eyes darken in panic.

"Maybe I am… disturbed…" She whispered. David, unperturbed by her emotional turmoil shrugged.

"Like I said, you seem normal to me. But then again, I seem normal to me, and everyone says I'm very strange." Said David. He looked to the sky again. Wendy was silent, and distracted in her own thoughts. David continued to search the sky.

"Ah," He said pointing. "Virgo. Said to be the constellation of Persephone. Daughter of Demeter stolen by Hades to become his wife in the underworld." He recounted gravely.

"You enjoy Greek mythology?" Wendy searching the skies.

"I enjoy the Greeks." He responded. Wendy looked at him and he smiled genuinely yet vaguely in her direction. "I thought marriage would be horrible." He said. "You're not what I imagined for a wife." David said.

"She will not be your wife." Came a voice behind her. Wendy's heart leaped into her throat as she recognized the voice of Peter. She turned to see him, but he was not there. Frantically, she looked to David to see if he had heard it too, he was gazing fixedly over her shoulder.

"David, I heard... a voice. Did you hear it?" Wendy asked, panicked.

"Yes…" He said softly. "Wendy… I… seem to be suffering the same delusions…" David said, disturbed. Suddenly, David's face blanched with fear. He seemed to be gazing behind her, terrified.

"David… What is it?" Wendy asked. For once, his eyes did not falter, he stared fixedly above her shoulder, his mouth agape.

"Wendy… it's… Death!" He whispered. Wendy felt he was toying with her, but turned to investigate. Again, there was nothing. She became annoyed at him, and was deeply hurt by his mocking of her, but then she heard it again. Peter's voice.

"I'm sorry, Wendy…" It spoke. David made to scream, but he never got the chance. His face had frozen into a horrified open chasm. The world around frozen with it. The bats had stopped in their flight, hovering above the branches. The trees ceased their swaying in the spring breeze. Wendy stood in a completely quiet, still world. Her breathing was the only sound she heard. She observed herself, and saw that she was unchanged. She looked around her and beheld a cloaked figure, holding a menacing scythe in its hands. It swung it lazily and in an awfully reminiscent manner to the strange pole Peter had kept with him. The figure tapped the scythe onto the ground, and the blade dissipated into a flurry of dust.

"Peter?" She whispered, unsure. The menacing figure approached her.

"Yes…" He said behind his heavy hood. She approached him, and saw his shadowed face within the garment. She observed the way the cloth hung from him. She knew it was Peter beneath the cloak, although it looked unnatural on him. Tentatively, her hands reached into the hood to touch his face. She placed her hand on his cheek and he was warm and real. It really was Peter. Softly, she peeled back the hood to reveal him.

"You're… Death?" She asked.

"Yes." He answered, unveiled. Wendy stepped back from him in shock and he made to step forward. "Please…" He begged. Suddenly she had remembered his request to not be afraid. It was as if she were meeting him for the first time. Her childhood, Neverland, the window… it had been him all along. It had been Death. Strange connections began to form in her mind, as the true being of Pan unfurled.

"I'm not afraid." She said reassuringly, yet her heart was beating wildly in her chest, and her nerves burned with panic.

"It was time." Peter said plainly. "I've come to steal you away." He tried to smile, but Wendy could not return it in her shock.

"I've died?" She asked. He nodded.

"Yes, you've died. Again." Peter said. Wendy scoffed. Her ears rang loudly.

"Again?!" She repeated, stepping back from him. Peter opened his arms in invitation, as if he expected her to run into them. She did not, and Peter took in a shaking breath lowering his arms.

"Wendy… you must know that when I took you and your brothers to Neverland… you were not supposed to come back." Peter said softly. Wendy shook her head in disbelief.

"But how could we have… no one was ill…" She whispered. Peter shrugged.

"Your mother left the window open." Peter explained. "You were all bound to catch your death that night." Tears welled in Wendy's eyes as she recalled how she had begged Peter to take her brothers with them.

"Then Neverland…" Wendy began.

"It's a beautiful place for children to go when they die." He said. "It helps them not be scared. When they can settle with their deaths, they move on."

"And did we… move on?" Wendy asked.

"No." Replied Peter. He played with his cloak in shame. "No, I brought you back."

"Why?" Wendy asked. Peter shrugged.

"Because I was a child… and you asked me to… and I… you know." He said, avoiding her eyes. "I fell for you." He said in a whisper. Wendy approached Peter slowly and reached for his hand. He let her take it and he offered her a small smile.

"Do you hate me, Wendy?" He asked.

"No." She answered. "You brought the lost boys back. You were only trying to be noble…"

"To impress a girl that I loved… and you still didn't come back with me." He said, squeezing Wendy's hand. Only now could Wendy understand the gravity of what Peter had done for her. Now she understood how he could believe she did not truly love him back. He had brought children back from death, if only for a chance she would stay, and she hadn't. She shook her head in disbelief.

"Why did you not explain it to me? I would have stayed with you." She said, now grasping both his hands in hers.

"It was my job… to not tell. Wendy you were a child, too. Imagine how frightened you might have become to know that you had died. And then… even if you knew… you would have moved on, eventually." His eyes suddenly looked fierce. "I would have never let you leave me."

"But you did…" Wendy said plainly. Peter shrugged.

"I wanted you to come back on your own." He said. "But… you ran out of time." Peter looked to her to gauge her expression. Wendy looked up at him, trying to absorb the nature of the boy she swore she loved. Peter pulled her towards him, stepping back and slowly moving her away from the frozen scene of David's horrified face. Their feet did not really touch the ground, and it felt as if they were stepping on jelly, floating on a strange thickness of liquid. When they had sufficiently been removed, Peter stopped and looked over her shoulder at the place they had come.

"There." He said gesturing. She turned to face scene of David's frozen face. She was shocked to see that there were two of her. She looked down at her feet and found that an identical pair was standing not ten feet from where she stood with Peter. Wendy felt his arms squeeze around her, as if to comfort her shock, but she felt numb instead. His hold engulfed her body and she felt him drape himself over her, much like the cloak which draped him. He reached to kiss her softly on the cheek and laid his head on her shoulder.

"Ready?" He whispered in her ear. Wendy did not know what for, but she nodded anyways. Slowly, David's face was released from its hold, and he began to properly scream.

His scream was muffled and garbled, as if he were screaming underwater. She saw her abandoned body fall slowly, until time finally worked itself back to a normal speed, which dropped her abandoned body hard onto the ground of the patio. David pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes and he shook in shock. His mother, followed by her mother, rushed out into the scene. It was plain that they had been eavesdropping on the encounter. Mrs. Darling beheld her fallen daughter on the ground, and was too frightened to touch her. Instead she fell beside her and her hand shook tentatively above her form.

"Wendy!" Her mother shouted. Oddly, she shouted to the sky, and looked about the stars hopelessly in search of her.

Mrs. Darling looked into the distance to where Peter and Wendy now stood, and gazed in her direction. Wendy stiffened as she sensed her mother could see her there, in the arms of Peter.

Wendy shook and tears streamed from her face.

"Mother…" Wendy mumbled. Peter tightened his hold on her and rubbed his face against her cheek possessively.

"I'm so sorry, Wendy." He said, truly distraught. Wendy's mother collapsed above the body of Wendy and she held her dead daughter tightly in her arms, savoring the last traces of warmth in her body.

Wendy was riddled with tears and began to struggle in Peter's arms.

"No, no!" She moaned. Peter held her tightly still.

"You can't." He said between gritted teeth. "It's done…"

Wendy watched the scene play out numbly. David was ushered inside with his mother. The guests of the party spilled out onto the patio to witness the commotion. Wendy's mother was pulled from her body, and doctors were called in to examine her corpse, pulling back her hair and examining the strange mark Peter had left there the night before. Slowly, the crowd dissipated, and her body was wrapped in a cloth to be removed by the doctors. Peter's hold softened on her as the scene finalized. The patio was left empty, and the night resumed its innocent twinkling of stars, unperturbed by the happenstance of death and turmoil below.


	4. Stasis

Wendy breathed in heavy silence after the scene, and Peter's hold on her slowly relaxed.

"What happens now?" Wendy asked, finally catching her breath.

"We go back to Neverland… if you like." Peter offered. "But I must warn you… it won't be the same as when you left." Wendy took in a deep breath. She was not ready to go anywhere, and secretly, neither was Peter.

"Can we stay here… for a while?" She asked.

"Yes, for a while… but eventually we must move on." Peter said. "This realm is… Stasis. Grown-ups who pass hang out here until they are ready to move on. They can take their time to say goodbye to their loved ones, even pretend to still be alive until they can face their fate."

"But I am not a grown up." Wendy said. Peter cocked his brow and looked at her in her burgundy dress and curls. His face split into a smile when he eyed her low bust line that exposed her voluminous breasts. Wendy traced his gaze and blushed fiercely at him.

"Maybe a little grown up, Wendy." He said, teasingly. She crossed her arms over her chest. Wendy was not in the mood for quips.

The world around them was strangely quiet. It certainly felt like the realm of the dead.

"I would like to walk." She said. "To think things over." Peter nodded and offered her his arm. She stepped back from him. "Can I not go alone?" His face fell in hurt.

"No." He said. "You can't." His lips thinned and he offered her his arm to take once more. Given no choice she took his arm and he squeezed her hand there tightly. Wendy turned her face from him, cross at his firmness. He pulled her forward and began to walk. He stepped annoyingly brisk, and Wendy had trouble keeping pace in her long skirts. She knew he did this to bother her. He led her into the town, as if they were taking a stroll to fetch bread. It was an odd and familiar route she had taken many times, but Peter pressed on past the shops she knew. He took long strides as they made their way down the trottoire. It was a shock to Wendy to find they were not alone. Figures, some clear and some not, were walking down the paths and some even bid them good evening, tipping their hats. Wendy was terrified, and she clung to Peter's arm. It was almost too easy to forget they were no longer in the land of the living. Peter relished in her clinging to him, and relaxed his brisk pace, returning the tidings and biddings of the wandering spirits. Wendy was still cross at him. Once they had stepped out of town, Peter kept walking until the pavement turned to stone, then to dirt. Trees began to swallow their path and it began to wind with the terrain.

"I don't know where we are going." Wendy said bitterly.

"I do." Peter replied, his voice soft. He had forgotten his anger and brushed the back of her hand gently as if comforting her. They began to step over rocks and roots, and finally they came to an alcove with a rough structure built in the center. It was an old barn that had been out of use for what seemed a century. Nature had overtaken it, and trees dared to grow between the floorboards, and popped out from the roof. Peter released her and pushed a precarious door open. He gestured inside, and Wendy climbed over the threshold. Wendy could see nothing inside the building save for a little bed in the corner, but it was at least comforting to have four walls around her. Wendy sat on the bed, and Peter rushed about collecting sticks, branches, and kindling, pushing them up into a pile. He struck a match, and caught some kindling beneath the branches on fire. Soon, the barn was brightly lit, and felt strangely more like a home. More objects were illuminated into view. A chair, a chest, a small table with cutlery. Wendy watched Peter with interest as he sat by the fire. He was nearly a man, just as she was nearly a woman. The mystery of his growth still beguiled her, but then again, very little about Peter Pan made sense to her now. He felt like a stranger, and although she loved him, she realized she knew very little about him. Feeling he was being observed, Peter turned to see her. They stared at each other for a while before Peter offered Wendy to sit beside him. Wendy obliged and she sat clumsily in her beautiful dress on the hard ground. Peter continued to look at her fixatedly.

"You looked beautiful tonight." Peter said.

"Am I not beautiful still?" Wendy retorted. Peter chuckled.

"Well, of course you are." He said. "I'm just not used to seeing you in something other than your nightdress." Wendy laughed.

"Some would consider you lucky that you've only seen me in my nightdress." She said.

"I do consider myself lucky." Said Peter sweetly.

Wendy picked at her dress.

"What a dress to die in…" She moaned. "This is not how I had imagined I would die."

"How did you imagine it?" Peter asked. Wendy looked at him in surprise.

"I've never even thought of it. I was too busy thinking about growing up and living." She confessed. Peter nodded.

"Even when you were in Neverland you thought of nothing but growing up." He said bitterly.

"Well, I will not be growing up." She blubbered. Peter made to hold her, but she pushed him away.

"Wendy, I'm sorry…" He began. "I know you wanted to grow up." He pulled her into him, and she let him take her into an embrace. He hushed at her cries and rubbed her arms soothingly. Peter knew that she would be distraught, one way or another. He knew that when he had asked for her to come with him, she did not know what she was really agreeing to. Sacrifices had to be made if he wanted Wendy to come to him. Peter had made his sacrifice long ago, and now it was Wendy who must make hers.

"This is not how I imagined you would die either." Peter said. Wendy dried her eyes and looked at him puzzled.

"How did you imagine I would die?" She said, almost repulsed at the statement.

Peter smiled, as if dreaming.

"I imagined… that I would come back to you after you had done some growing up. You would take me into your arms, and tell me how much you missed me. Then I would kiss you and ask you to come away with me. Of course, in my mind you would have said yes right away…" He said pausing to give her a reproving stare. "So that I could take you away without pain or fear…" His breath hitched, and unbelievably, Peter felt his throat swell with sadness. "I would have asked for your hand. Then you would have said yes, and I would have taken you in my arms, and… I would have kissed you… made love to you… before I had to…" Peter was lost in his story and Wendy blushed as he described the intimate details of his fantasy. He quickly wiped at his eyes to block burgeoning tears.

"Peter…" Wendy asked. "So you really did ask me… that night… to marry you?" Peter nodded slowly.

"And we would have gotten to the love-making bit if only you had said yes." He said, put-out. "Now you've died a virgin." Wendy pursed her lips together in annoyance.

"How could you possibly know of such things, Peter?" She asked.

"Same as you," He said, "by growing up." He stuck his tongue out at her, and she saw the little boy in him had not completely dissolved.

Wendy turned her face away from him to hide her flustered expression. A silence overtook them, but the fire kept them company. The strangeness of what had happened tonight was still settling on them both, Wendy most of all. She had died, and she had been taken from her family. Her future was… uncertain to say the least. And still, she did not know what Peter wanted of her. She thought of how he had asked for her hand, and she smiled. She had yet to answer the question, yet she was too embarrassed to bring up the subject once again. Secretly, she wished that he would.

Peter occupied himself with piping on his pipes. The song he played was so nostalgic and soft. It was strange, it felt familiar, yet at the same time she had never heard it. The tune wiped her thoughts of sadness and grief and she felt happy and glad. She turned to him and gazed at his form in the firelight. He looked more beautiful now that he ever had to her albeit fuzzy and strange. She had trouble thinking, and suddenly all she wanted was to be in his arms. She began to feel bewitched by his little tune.

"Peter… that song…" Wendy began. He smirked and stopped playing. The warmth seemed to leak out from her fingers, and the glow that had once surrounded him dimmed significantly.

"Still a child, too, then." He said. Wendy looked at him confused. He offered Wendy the pipes to examine. She took them in her hand and they seemed completely ordinary and plain.

"They are the pipes that I use to lure children from their beds." He said. "It gives them happy thoughts."

"You did not use them to lure me…" Wendy said.

"Yes. I know." Peter said. He suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Wendy, I have a truth to tell you." He confessed. Wendy leaned towards him in interest. "I wasn't meant to take you away that night. I was supposed to only take the littlest, but you saw me, and without using my pipes, you looked at me with such… eyes."

"What do you mean, Peter?" Wendy asked, her pulse beginning to race. He bit his lip, as if holding back words. Wendy placed an encouraging hand on his and he took it greedily, holding to it as if for strength. Wendy became scared again, and her hand hurt from his clutching.

"In your eyes, I was ordinary, and extra-ordinary all at once." He said, his eyes searching hers. "I did not need to use the pipes, you were drawn to me anyways, and… I was drawn to you." He had meant it to be romantic but Wendy was horrified, her eyes widened.

"I was not supposed to die that night." She stated.

"No." He answered with guilt.

"And tonight… was I supposed to die tonight?" She pressed on. Peter was silent, and in the pregnant pause Wendy tried to wretch her hand from his, but he held if firmly.

"Not really." He answered, his jaw clenched.


	5. Stolen and Neverland

Wendy felt a heated surge of panic run through her, the four walls of their makeshift home suddenly feeling tight and cage-like. She pulled harder still for him to release her, but Peter, fearful that she may flee, reinforced his hold by grabbing her arm and pulling Wendy towards him. Her whole weight toppled over and she was thrown into his arms. He held her there in a tight embrace. He meant to hush and soothe her, but the force he had used to pull her in scared Wendy out of her wits. He would really resort to force. He had kept his word.

"I'm sorry." He said in a hard tone. "It just had to be done."

Wendy was silent. How could she trust him, now? She simply couldn't. She felt victim to the passions of a violent and greedy creature. How unfortunate that she had captured him so wholly. How foolishly she had teased him. She regretted insisting the window being kept open all this time. To think, all this time she had been beckoning Death to her.

When she made no indication of struggle, Peter relaxed his hold and let her fall away from him.

"You're selfish." Wendy snapped at him. Peter scoffed.

"I'm selfish?" He retorted, clearly stung by her words. "I've waited for you for so long. I've grown for you and sacrificed more than you could ever know to be with you." He said, his anger mixing with pain. "You're selfish, Wendy." He said finally, his voice shaking with emotion.

Peter stood and stomped to the door angrily, slapping it shut behind him. The door, hanging only by its last hinges, surrendered to the force and toppled over. He turned to look at it, and Wendy saw that tears had begun to flow freely from him. Embarrassed and hurt, Peter flew into the sky with such force that a wind overtook the enclosure, and threatened to stifle the fire Peter had so nicely put together.

Wendy was left alone for the first time to experience the reality of her own demise. The world stretched before her into an unimaginable size and she felt small and ridiculous in it. The realm of Stasis was a strange satire to the real and living world. The crickets and birds were all muted, and even the wind rattled the trees with jarringly strange moans. She wished she could go home to see her mother. She almost stood to do so, but something stopped her. Could she really go back to the life she was living if Peter was not there? Was it really all worth living knowing he wouldn't be there to lure her into adventure? Her one true adventure in life had been Peter. It had always been Peter, and Peter had always been Death. How awful that she had fallen for such an unfortunate boy. It had to be done, Peter had said. And he had been right. If she wanted to be with him, she very well couldn't be alive.

Wendy sat by the fire in contemplation, and waited for Peter's return. He took his time, and Wendy's heart was twisted in unease the whole while he was gone. It was hard to wait for someone you loved to return to you.

The moon rose high into the night as Wendy waited his return. A while later, Peter's face peeked at her from the frame of the fallen door, as if to see if she were still there. She was. He took in a deep breath, and with reddened eyes he sat by the fire a little distance from her. Close enough that she could embrace him if she liked, but far enough that she had to make some effort to do so. He had shed his horrible cloak, and sat with his leaves barely covering his form. It was strange to see how much he had grown. All this for her, he had said. What sacrifices had she made for him? Her life, she supposed.

Memories of Neverland raced through her. The fun, the adventure, the love that they had shared… was it only temporary? A small sliver of perfect happiness that would not be brought back and replicated? Wendy wanted urgently now to return to Neverland. To feel the love and wonder she had felt with him years ago. She studied his fallen face. What an unusual look for Peter Pan.

"I forgive you." She said in almost a whisper. Peter blinked in surprise. He took in a breath, and couldn't seem to breath it out calmly.

"Thank you." He said, as if he had nothing to be sorry for in return. Wendy sighed and made the little effort it took to lean onto him. He did not move, but it was obvious that he relished smugly in the attention. Silence overtook them, and a while later she felt his warm hand search hers to squeeze it lightly. She returned the squeeze and he looked down at her with a small smile. His gaze caressed her face as he observed her wholly. His eyes rested on the right-hand corner of her lips.

"Wendy, will you come back to Neverland with me?" He asked. Wendy nodded.

"Yes. I will." She replied. Peter was crestfallen, despite hearing the answer he had longed to hear from her. He had expected explosions of happiness, the sun being blotted from the sky, some kind of celestial act seemed necessary for the moment Wendy agreed to come home with him. But alas all he felt was humbled and relieved. Peter felt his heart lighten as he silently forgave Wendy, too, for leaving him all those years ago. It was water under the bridge, now, as now she had returned to him.

"Peter…" Wendy began. "Tell me everything."

"Everything?" He asked. It seemed an unreasonable demand. He certainly did not know enough about mycology to truly tell her everything, and he was hardly any good at remembering historical events.

"Yes." She said. "About the night you stole me away." Peter relaxed and smiled.

"Oh," he said. "That's easy!" In the lightening of his mood, the fire Peter had created slowly regained life and energy.

"Once upon a time… there was an extraordinary boy who wanted to never grow up." He began smugly. Wendy had never been told the true story by Peter Pan, and she longed to hear it.

"He was so gifted with wonder and adventure that even though he had died as a child, he stayed in Neverland to never cross over. He led the lost boys into adventures, and helped them find peace and solace in their passing on. The gods then offered him a gift. He would be crowned prince of Neverland, and play with the lost children of the world to ease their deaths." Peter stopped and looked at Wendy to see her reaction. She looked at him with wonder. He had been just an ordinary boy who refused to pass on. Wendy wondered what small life he had lived before death. Peter was truly a mysterious being.

"One night," He continued. "He met the most beautiful girl, and even though it wasn't her time, he lured her away to his home. He hoped that she would be just as happy as he was in Neverland, since she was so full of wonder and imagination. But the boy was a fool, and although he had fallen in love with her… he refused to say so because he was still a stupid child." He looked at her now with apologetic eyes. "Heartbroken, the girl asked to go home, and she convinced the lost boys of Neverland to come too. Gutted at her leaving, the boy took the girl back to her home, and released all of the spirits who had passed back to the land of the living. He hoped that his sacrifice would convince her to come back, but instead she turned away from the boy to grow up." Peter glanced at her once more, feeling self-conscious in his confessions. Wendy was silent, and offered him to continue.

"The gods were very angry with the boy." He said silently. "And stole the magic from his Neverland. The fairies disappeared, and the island was overcome with wilderness and danger, and the boy was thrown from it. The gods gave him a punishment. The boy could only return to Neverland with the girl he had released, only then would he be allowed back. The gods gave him charge of a new world, the world of Stasis. The boy did not like the world. It was dark and scary. But the girl loved him still, and she kept her window open for him. He visited often, and took comfort in knowing she still loved him, even though she did not understand…" Peter stopped abruptly and turned away from her. He had finished sharing his feelings, and his pride was too thin to continue. He pulled his hand from hers and sat solemnly by the fire.

"Where have you been all this while… if not in Neverland?" She pried. He gestured vaguely about the barn. The quaint bed, the little chair and table… he had taken her back to him home.

"It was mine when I was… younger." He said. Wendy looked about the room. So, Peter had once been an ordinary boy as well. He had had a mother, a home… She looked to the trees that grew from between the floorboards. It must have been an awfully long time ago. Wendy took Peter's arm and pulled him towards her in an embrace. He willingly fell into it, and she felt him deftly kiss her on the cheek.

"Peter should we go back to Neverland?" She asked. He shook his head.

"No…" Peter said softly.

"But why?" Wendy asked. It was silent for a while before he responded.

"I'm scared."

"Ha!" Wendy said standing. "Peter Pan, scared? Impossible." He smiled up at her. It had been a very long time since he had felt his light-hearted self. Ever since Peter had fallen from his Neverland, the world had only grown darker and darker. He had waited for so long for this moment, and now that it was here, he found that he was afraid to face it.

"It will be harder than when we were children, Wendy." Peter said unsure. "We have no Tink to guide us, and very little fairy dust."

"But you can still fly, and you must return to Neverland! It needs you, and you need it!" Wendy said, shaking him. Peter looked at Wendy and smiled. Yes, it was time that he returned. Peter began to daydream. He dreamed that the shadows which overtook his Neverland would scatter at his return. The fairies would re-emerge, and crown him not Prince… but King Peter, with his Queen Wendy by his side. With the encouragement of Wendy, Peter stood proudly, with this head lifted to the sky.

"Then let's fly, Wendy." He said smiling that mischievous smile he had worn as a boy. Peter then rushed about the barn to collect his things. He opened the chest and threw into a sack a slingshot, a dagger, and other such bric-a-brac. He wrapped himself into his cloak once more, and waved his pole around, creating a scattering of fairy dust. Scanning the room definitively he thumped the pole into the ground which sent dust spilling from the end. Wendy had watched him in awe, and then was pulled into the showering dust by Peter, who wrapped her partially into his cloak, and held her firmly to him by the waist. Her excitement built as it had been years since she had flown, and as she gazed at Peter, a look of childish joy shone through him.

"Don't let go, Wendy." He said, before he bent low to shoot them into the air, through the dilapidated rooftop, and into the night sky. Wendy's heart flew into her throat and she felt a delightful tickle in her belly. The feeling of flight was exhilarating! Peter held her still as they shot deeper and deeper into the black night sky. The buildings below grew smaller and smaller, and the air became ever colder. Wendy held tightly to him, her face stinging with the cold. She looked to him and saw that he flew with conviction, although he shook and wobbled in the breeze as it had been such a long while since he had flown such a distance. Wendy held him strongly, and Peter looked down at her, for just a moment, before smirking smugly and flying even faster than before. It was nothing like the first time they had flown. In that time, Peter had played with her and teased her by catching her only at the very last second when she fell. But now, she had very little fear of falling, save from Peter swaying dangerously in heavy gusts of wind. He held his pole before him, as if it carved a path for them into the sky, and the air became dense and stinging. His pole was pointed to a star, and he fought to keep his direction. It was awful, then that they began to slow down at an alarming rate. It was as if a great gust of wind were pushing them back down to the Earth, which was nothing but small lights within darkness. Looking back, it almost seemed as if the Earth and the night sky were the same. Peter groaned with effort as he was pushed harder back to the ground, the feeling of freefall overcoming them both. Wendy grew scared, and she nearly let go as Peter began to thrust his arms forward to keep himself in flight. Her fear made her heavy with putrid thoughts, and she became a damning weight on him.

"Close your eyes, Wendy! We're almost there!" Screamed Peter, as they began to tumble from the sky. Wendy tried to obey, but she couldn't. Then, Peter thrust his pole into the air and it shattered into the last remaining flurry of fairy dust. The magic flung them forward and they were careened to the star before them. Peter's cloak began to unfurl as if it were a sweater being pulled by a string. Wendy clung to him as she was exposed to the night air, but then the air began to warm. The star grew imminently closer, and Peter crowed loudly as they set eyes upon Neverland once again. With his elation, Peter glowed, and when the cloak had completely unfurled, Peter looked like brilliant a shooting star. Holding fast to her shooting star, Wendy laughed wildly. Neverland once again. She would have never thought.

Peter slowed, and the air became pleasant. They had broken through to the gravity of Neverland. Wendy relaxed as Peter held her floating in the sky. Wendy smiled lovingly at him, completely thrilled at the flight, but he returned a mischievous smile. He let her go, and Wendy was sent, horrified, into a freefall towards the island. Peter laughed and fell with her, not without some showing off by spinning around her in flight. She could hear his joyous cackle beneath her shrill screaming as land grew dangerously closer, only to be scooped up into his arms at the last possible second. Wendy was quite sure she had died again. He still chuckled at her when he put her down into the soft soil of the Neverland Forests. She was clinging to him, her arms nearly suffocating him, and he relished in it. He tried to put her down, but Wendy had been given such a fright that she stubbornly held to him.

He laughed and untangled himself from her limbs. Wendy clung her hand to her heart as she took in her surroundings, standing shakily on her jellied legs. For Peter, it seemed as if he had never left. He stood among the trees cockily, with his hand upon his hips in his usual fashion. He seemed so natural in Neverland. Peter took a deep breath of Neverland air.

"We're home." He said. Suddenly, an arrow shot past his face, and a streak of blood was formed on his cheek where it had grazed. The arrow landed with a loud thunk behind him, and he pulled Wendy harshly into the ground. Peter looked at the arrow, and saw that it was Native. Wendy looked at Peter in urgency.

"We need to make a run for it." Peter whispered in alarm. Before Wendy could comprehend his words, she was pulled to her feet and sent running with Peter between the trees. They could hear arrows flying by and hitting nearby trees. Thunk thunk thunk! Peter spotted a large tree, rotting and hollow, and made a break for it, Wendy in tow. Peter jumped into the trunk, and pulled Wendy over. It was a tight fit inside, but they were well hidden. Wendy's feet did not touch the ground, and she was suspended only by the tight fitting of their bodies in the trunk. Peter slapped a hand over Wendy's mouth to quiet her labored breathing, listening for footsteps. Of course, he heard none. The Natives were deft on their feet, but from a small crack in the trunk, Wendy spotted them stepping among the leaves. They were not the joyful Natives that she remembered as a child. They looked wild, and dangerous. Their mouths and chins were painted red, and as one grimaced, she could see that their teeth had also been stained red. She secretly hoped it was from eating berries. From their leather garbs hung tethers of human hair with pieces of scalp still clinging to the follicles. No, certainly not the friendly Piccaninny tribe. A female Native held her hand up, and all the others stilled and listened. Hearing nothing, the female Native (and possibly their leader) wordlessly raced back through the forest where they had emerged. Peter lifted his hand from Wendy's mouth and she breathed out in relief. He let out a breath also and gave Wendy a small smile.

"Are you alright?" He whispered. Wendy meant to nod, but she suddenly slipped down the log and instead of landing on the ground just a few inches below, she was sent spiraling down a long strange tube into the earth, Peter falling after her. Wendy felt the slope flatten on her back and she was sent sliding into a dark underground cavern. Peter slid after her, and smashed unceremoniously into her.

"Ouch!" She complained, being poked in the side by one of his flailing limbs.

"Sorry…" He mumbled. Peter waited for his eyes to adjust, but very little light pierced through the ceiling which appeared to be the scattering of leaves from the forest floor. Peter felt he knew upon where they had stumbled. Wendy stood still, blinded in the darkness. Peter began to stumble about, tripping over objects and roots in the dark until he found what he had been looking for.

"Aha!" He exclaimed, as he felt his hand close over a mossy rope. He yanked it, and suddenly, latches on the ceiling came undone sending dirt and leaves spiraling to the floor, and letting the sunlight peer in from holes carved out of tree trunks in the surface. The room alighted, Wendy looked about at the abandoned tree house from her childhood.

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A/N: Some of you may notice that I merged chapters 5 and 6 together. Nothing of importance has changed, I just didn't want to interrupt a scene.


	6. The Gift

They both looked about in fascination. The long table with little stools scattered about it, the cots and hammocks, even the basket that Michael had slept in sat silent and dusted with time. Peter made his way to his throne made out of sticks and sat upon it. The seat was barely large enough to fit him. As a boy, he had room to sit in it sideways with his legs swaying over the armrest. Now it felt a snug dinner chair, absolutely not fit to be a throne. Wendy watched him and chuckled. He smiled at her and pretended to sip out of a very small teacup. Wendy laughed and looked about the room to join in his pretense. She spotted his makeshift crown made of paper and leaves and placed it onto his head. It was a bit too small, now, and it did not fully span the width of his head. It sat precariously to one side. Wendy looked down at Peter. The tiny remains of his childhood aggravated how much he had grown. She was stricken with sadness. His hair which had been kissed golden by the sun had darkened into a burnt and hollow brown. He looked trapped within himself, as if a little boy shone through his green eyes and could never escape. He was smiling at her, but in her solemn observation of him, his face dropped. Wendy felt her eyes sting with nostalgic sadness.

"It seems to strange…" She began to say, as tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Yes," Peter said. "But I am happy to be home." He stood, then to make his way to her, and hold her.

"We used to pretend that you were Father, and that I was Mother." She said reminiscing. The quietness of the treehouse grew deafening. It almost felt unwelcome without the cries of the lost boys. Peter sighed deeply.

"We can be Father and Mother again if you like…" Peter said. "We just need children." Wendy furrowed her brow, unsure of what he was insinuating.

"And how… do we get children?" She asked. Peter chuckled, and wiggled his brows teasingly.

"Well, there is the old-fashioned way…" He began. "but in Neverland… we need the fairies. They will help lift the shadows from Neverland, and they are the ones who originally guide children here." Peter sighed deeply and took his pipes from the sack he had gathered. He blew a tentative note and it rang loudly within the tree house, and echoed further still into the forest above them. Suddenly, the memory of the Natives sparked fear in Wendy that they might hear. In seeing Wendy's horrified face, Peter lowered the pipes.

"Where do you suppose they are?" Wendy whispered. She spoke about the Natives, but Peter thought still of the fairies.

"I don't know." Peter said. "But the mermaids might." Peter made his way to his small cot and sat on it precariously, afraid he might break it. He tried to lay in it, and promptly knocked his head on a root. He groaned and sat up. "Meanwhile…" He said, rubbing his head. "Let's just pretend to be Peter and Wendy." Wendy smiled.

"But we are already Wendy and Peter." She said.

He smiled at her, and began to dismantle the cot of his youth. It was strange to Wendy that he seemed so comfortable in destroying an object from his past. He did not even mind having to destroy his makeshift throne for sticks to elongate the cot. Without words, she understood his aim. To make sleeping arrangements. Wendy cut free some of the hammocks from the ceiling and began to sew them together into blankets. They worked silently, in quiet understanding. The only unspoken point was that Peter had created a large bed for two, and Wendy had created two blankets for one. In seeing this silly misunderstanding, Peter frowned, and sheepishly, Wendy sewed the two blankets together into one. Night approached in Neverland, and Peter lit candles to light the home. The dust had collected so thickly in them, that they fizzed and smoked before alighting, filling the room with a strange musty smell. Wendy continued to sew the blanket, and Peter took his time examining the memorabilia of his youth. He had stumbled upon the little alcove that Tink had made into her home, and he played mindlessly with the tiny furniture. Moving it about and wiping the dust off as if preparing for her return. Wendy was taking an awfully long time sewing, and it was mostly due to the fact that her hands shook so much. While Peter was occupied in his distractions, Wendy fretted about sleeping together with Peter. But eventually, despite her shaking hands, Wendy finished the blanket. She held it up proudly, and Peter kissed her lightly on the cheek in congratulations.

"In the morning we will look for the fairies." Peter said. Wendy bit her lip and clenched her hands. She was still dressed in her gown, and she had nothing but her undergarments underneath. She had nothing to sleep with, and yet they had made only one bed. Peter was unperturbed by her discomfort and already began shedding his weaponry and knick knacks from his person. His dagger, pipes, slingshot and curiously, thimble on a string, all into a pile by the bed. He sat and bounced on the cot a couple of times to ascertain its stability and smiled boyishly to Wendy with a thumbs up. Wendy turned from Peter and began to wrestle her gown loose. As it was a low cut, the dress clasped in a terribly annoying spot on her back. She struggled for a while before she felt Peter's hands softly push hers away to unclasp it and work the bodice loose. He had no idea how to properly undo a woman's dress, and he pulled at it in frustration. She felt his hands struggle beneath the fabric and over her naked skin and it made her strangely hot. Then suddenly, the dress fell down over her shoulders and she was left barren before him in her underthings. She turned slowly towards him, and Peter examined her without shame. The lights were very low, now, as the candles were almost drowned in their own wax.

"Are you ready, Wendy?" He asked. He had meant ready for bed, but Wendy wondered if there had been a double meaning in his words.

"Yes." She said softly. She turned to blow out the remaining lights, and worked her way to the bed where Peter already lain in waiting. When she sat on the cot, she was immediately pulled into Peter's arms to lay nestled beside him. Peter tried not to make a big fuss of it, but he could not hide his chuckle as he felt her stiffen at their closeness. She huffed and pulled the covers over herself, pretending to not feel the electric tension in the space between them.

"Goodnight, Peter." She said sternly. He snaked his hands over her stomach and she trembled. He smiled at his affect on her. Peter puller her closer to kiss her lightly on her exposed shoulder.

"Goodnight Wendy." He said smugly.

It was strange to Wendy that she should fall asleep in the usual fashion. She had died, after all, and had felt that she should feel so in one way or another. It was strange, then, that she had experienced all of the usual burdens of the living. She had yearned for a glass of water before bed, had been exhausted from their long and arduous day, and had even felt a bodily craving she was ashamed to have had. Peter was sent snoring just seconds after hitting his pillow, yet Wendy felt his body next to hers a tantalizing distraction. She could not stop from feeling his chest moving against her back in deep sleep breathing. The odd little twitches his hand gave tickled her skin as he held her. No, it was out of the question that she should sleep normally, but she did, eventually succumb to it.

Her dreams were strange, as they should have been after such an odd day. In her dreams, Wendy heard many voices whispering all at once to her. They were quiet with murmuring and she could not make out the meanings, and only caught a word here or there. The voices were charming and benign, almost sing-song in fashion. She walked the woods, illuminated with fireflies to lean down into the ground. She wiped away some leaves, to reveal the form of a sleeping child. In her dream Wendy leaned over the child and whispered softly to it, much like the voices whispered to her.

"Once upon a time…"

And then she woke up. The woods were rustling with raindrops above, and the underground home was pungent with petrichor. Peter was still sleeping soundly. Wendy closed her eyes and relished in the calmness of the morning. The sky groaned with thunder, and Wendy felt all too happy to be huddled in the bed away from the storm. She was perfectly content at this time, and only felt not so when she remembered the way her mother had cried over her death. How strange to feel happiness after such an event. How strange that she felt her sacrifice worthwhile. She pulled Peter's arm more tightly around herself, and he squeezed her sleepily in return. Wendy silently wished she could tell her mother that she was doing well. How wonderful it would be to simply write her a letter sealed with a kiss? What an unfortunate boy Wendy had fallen in love with. Such tedious complications.

Peter slowly roused from his sleep at the grumbling of the thunderstorm. Wendy turned to face him. He looked sweetly at her and it was strange to her that for a short while she had feared him. She had feared Death, maybe, but never Peter Pan. Yet they were one and the same.

"It's raining." He said flatly. "Yet I don't feel like it."

"What do you feel" She asked.

He furrowed his brows in thought.

"Calm in way but… nervous. Neverland doesn't feel the same." He said. That certainly seemed a rainy mood to Wendy. They lay in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Wendy contemplated her strange dream, while Peter thought of the Natives, and seeking out the mermaids.

He wriggled in unease as his restless mind demanded action, and he stood from the bed, re-equipping his various weapons.

"Where are you going?" Asked Wendy.

"To find the Mermaids." He said.

"Alone?" Wendy asked concerned. He looked offended as if she thought him incapable of managing some angsty fish on his own.

"Well, why not?" He asked. Wendy shied and looked about the old and familiar underground home.

"I don't want to be alone here." She whispered. The idea that she did not wish to part from him filled him with pride. He looked about the room and unsheathed a sword from a discarded pile of weaponry.

"Well, then come along!" He said, pulling her up from the bed. He placed the sword into her hand and she swung it, acquainting the weight with her arm. Peter looked at her with such pride. Here she was, brandishing a sword in nothing but her underthings. What a sight to behold.

They climbed up out of the tree house in the way they had in their youth, and emerged into the wet and sopping forests of Neverland.

"This is perfect!" Cried Peter. "The rain will mask our footsteps." He said pulling her up from the ground. Wendy landed and realized for the first time that she had left the home only half dressed. Well, she surely couldn't go in her gown, now could she?

They walked swiftly through the trees, following an old familiar hog trail to the beaches of Neverland. Wendy looked behind her often, terrified at the prospect of being chased by the Natives again. When the tree cover broke, the ground turned from soil to sand. They emerged from the comforting cover of the treetops, unsure.

"What if the Mermaids are just as awful as the Natives?" Asked Wendy. Peter took in a deep breath.

"Well, then we will have a difficult day." He said, pressing on towards the lagoon. As they neared the shore, heads bobbed up from below the water and an ominous clicking filled the air. The mermaids began to rise from the water, and Peter and Wendy froze to where they were, braced to race back into the safety of the forest. The mermaids neared the shore as if in collective thought, and gazed upon their guests.

"Peter Pan." Hissed a mermaid with a peculiar crown resting on her head. At being addressed, Peter stepped forward to meet them. Wendy followed cautiously behind him.

"And Wendy Bird?" Hissed the mermaid with a laugh. The mermaids all began to laugh together, clicking with dark amusement. Wendy hid behind Peter.

"We need your help." He began. Their laughter quieted.

"Of course you do." Said the mermaid. She hissed suddenly to the others, signaling them to leave them, and they fled into deeper waters with their tails flopping gracefully after. She turned back to face Peter, and arched her head to try to peek at Wendy hiding behind him. The mermaid snickered.

"How did it feel to have to kill the girl you love just to come back here?" She teased. "She must be frightened of you." Peter turned red with anger and embarrassment.

"I am not scared!" Wendy said from behind Peter. Peter said nothing, and the mermaid cackled.

"You got what you deserved, Peter Pan." She teased. Peter's lips thinned with tension and he tried to clear his head of anger to ask what he had come to ask.

"We need to bring back the fairies." Peter said frankly. The mermaid smiled at him.

"Oh, how you've grown. You used to be baited so easily." She said. The mermaid disregarded his question, but seemed keenly interested in Wendy. Wendy stepped out from behind Peter, and the mermaid smiled sweetly at her. Enchanted, Wendy smiled back. Peter watched them cautiously, his hand coming to rest on the hilt of his dagger. The mermaid hissed at him.

"Hands off your weapon, boy!" She cried nastily, Peter reluctantly obeyed. The mermaid curled her finger at Wendy to beckon her closer. Wendy looked at Peter, and he stared at her back, willing words of caution into Wendy's mind. Wendy stepped forward into the lagoon, the water coming up to her ankles.

"Don't be scared, girl." The mermaid sang, encouraging her further. Wendy looked back at Peter and he nodded a small encouragement. Wendy stumbled in deeper, the water coming up over her waist. The mermaid swam towards her, and Wendy smiled at the idea that she could finally swim with a mermaid. The mermaid stroked her cheek sweetly, but then grabbed harshly at her hair to pull her ear towards her fish-like mouth.

"You are the Mother of Neverland." She whispered. "Act like it, and Neverland will open itself to you." The mermaid pushed an object towards Wendy, and Wendy cupped her hands to receive it. It was a small but wilted plant she had never seen. The Mermaid then pushed Wendy back towards the shore, and Wendy stumbled up the submerged slope to dry land, confused.

Peter rushed over to help her, as she had her hands full cradling the mysterious gift. Curiously, he looked inside her hands to see the small, wilted plant in her hands. He grimaced at it.

"Do not consider this a truce, Peter Pan." The mermaid warned. "Neverland remains wild for now." She said, before flopping backwards into the dark waters of the Lagoon.

They were left there in silence. Peter cocked his brows at her in question.

"We must plant it!" Wendy said. Peter was a bit jealous of her, he had not received a gift from the Mermaids, and Wendy had. But what was he to do? The mermaids had done nothing but taunt and tease him, and to Wendy they gave a gift.


	7. Sworn

Hello to those who read this. Thank you so much for going on this journey with me! I want to keep this story's rating as T, since the I seldom do so but couldn't really help myself. So what I have done is made two different chapters; One with a vague description skirting over the bits and pieces, and one that describes the bits and pieces in full detail. I will list this as STOLEN: The forbidden chapter. Hope you enjoy it anyways, and that you don't hold it against me.

I will format the forbidden chapter to be read as soon as you see the

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In THIS chapter, the edited version will be after. After the scene is over, there will be an

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Where the story resumes.

Chapter 7:

"We still know nothing of the fairies." Peter said plainly. He was upset. The mermaids had been cruel to him, and their jabs had stung him greatly. Despite his silent pain, Peter offered Wendy his arm to walk back into towards the treehouse. All the while, the rain had become heavier. The wind howled, and the storm picked up into heavy sheets of rain. Peter and Wendy walked slowly, clasped to each other as the sky darkened to an almost night like depth. Lightning flung itself across the sky, and the path in the forest became barely visible through the rain. The wind pushed them this way and that, and Peter hardly knew if he was still on the path or not. Then, horribly, it began to hail. Wendy cupped her hands over her little plant protectively, while Peter fought the onslaught of bullet-like pebbles. The forest echoed in the deafening roar of the storm. Peter finally reached the secret entrance of the underground home, and pushed Wendy through it, following her after. Once inside Wendy rushed to close the latches which had let in light, and now showers of ice, into the home. Peter made quick work of lighting a couple of candles and they stood, perplexed, in near darkness.

"I've never seen such weather in Neverland." Peter said, almost terrified. Wendy only nodded, shivering in her wet underthings. Her skin stung from the onslaught of hail.

"How's the plant?" He asked Wendy. She opened her hands, afraid that she had crushed it, but it looked in the same condition as when she had received it. She looked about for a bucket, a cup, or anything to plant her plant in. In the end Peter handed her an old shoe, and scraped some soil from the walls to fill it with. She gently poked the plant into the soil, and fed a bit of water in it. It lay hopelessly flaccid in the shoe. They both looked at the plant.

"You think it will live?" Wendy asked. He shrugged. He had very little experience growing plants. But the plant suddenly began to move slowly. Its stem filled with the water from the shoe, and it perked up, if only just a bit.

Relieved that the plant had lived, Wendy now began to truly shiver. The cold had pulled all of the heat from her body, and her teeth clattered with cold. In seeing her shiver, Peter rubbed her shoulders to warm her.

"Wendy, your clothes are all wet." He groaned.

"It's no matter…" She protested through her shivers. He frowned at her.

"This is no time for modesty, Wendy, you must get rid of your wet things." She huffed at him.

"Well, what about your wet things?" She asked. He smirked and pulled his leaves down, and stepped out of them shamelessly.

"What about them?" He said, baiting her to mirror his bravery.

Wendy was horrified and fascinated all at once. It was such a shame that too little light filled the room to properly see. Slowly Wendy peeled off her garments and hung them nicely on a root to dry. Peter watched her in silent fascination. He could only make out shadows of curves and volumes but he was enchanted by her nonetheless.

"Come, we will warm ourselves in the blankets." He said. Wendy stood still.

"You're trying to trick me." She said accusingly.

"Trick you into what, Wendy? And would you truly protest if I did?" He said challengingly. He had not said the trick out loud, but it was terribly plain what he had meant, and she was shocked to realize that no, she truly would not protest. All the matter, she was far too cold to concern herself about those things, so when Peter crawled into the cot, she followed him to it. Peter felt the cot shift as Wendy crawled within it. He pretended not to be nervous, but he could feel his heart hammering in his chest. Now that she was truly his, he felt no urgency to claim her, but the thought of her lying naked next to him sent him in a flurry of feeling nevertheless. He feigned bravado, as if the thought of her against him had no effect on him. He felt for her in the darkness and he pulled her towards him. Wendy's skin touched his all along his front as her back was pressed into his chest. They were both frigid, and it felt as cold pressed hopelessly to cold. Peter pulled the blanket over them. Wendy held very still in his arms, although she still shivered. Peter rubbed her arm to try to warm her, and slowly her shivering dissipated. They lay silently for a while, listening to the roaring of the storm outside. It still had not ceased and Peter began to worry that their arrival in Neverland had set off a perpetual storm.

They both fell asleep one way or another, lying very still in the blankets. Wendy continued her strange dream from the night before.

"Once upon a time…" She said to the Neverland child. "There was a boy who would never grow up." The child looked up at her, and she could not make out it's face. Its eyes were blue, no, brown, no… green. Its hair changed from curly and straight before her very eyes. It almost seemed as if this child were the face of all the children in the world combined. She loved it nevertheless and kissed it softly on the head.

Wendy awoke feeling warm at last. Peter's arms were intimately wrapped around her, and she felt his fingers graze lazily over the skin of her stomach. He was awake. She turned towards him and saw in the candlelight that his eyes were heavy lidded and calm. Peter had quite enjoyed this particular adventure. He felt it a quiet thrill to feel her against him, and he found new reasons why he loved his Wendy.

"You were speaking in your sleep." He said with a small smile. Wendy smiled back sheepishly.

"Oh, what did I say?"

"You were trying to tell me a goodnight story." He said. Peter tightened his hold of her and her skin pressed ever closer to his. He sighed in satisfaction. Wendy could of course not protest, as she was equally enchanted by the feel of his skin upon hers. The storm had gone, but the wind still howled. It had neared sunset and glorious rays of orange burned to burst through the makeshift windows of the underground home, which had been latched closed in the storm. Wendy stood to open them. The room was still nearly dark, and Wendy had forgotten her nakedness in it. When she opened them, she was cast brightly in the sunset, and Peter looked greedily at her. Although he had caught some forbidden knowledge from living 'down there', he was still ignorant in the feelings that Wendy could bring into him. His gaze darkened with hunger.

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Wendy made quick work of crawling back to bed, she was not accustomed to being so brazenly naked. She pulled the blankets over herself. Peter held her to him in the usual way, trying to abate the feelings that had begun to stir wildly within him. But his hands were not easily tamed. They wandered and crawled over the curvature of her hips and waist and over her stomach. Wendy stood very still, and allowed Peter his tantalizing exploration of her. His hand slipped over her breast and she shivered at the feeling of it. His breathing quickened, his body sent aflame with want. This was not a feeling he was accustomed to. Yes, he had roughly pulled her to him in the past. Yes, he had craved her. But not for the same reasons. Before, he had wanted to claim her, to lock her to him. But there was no powerplay, no pride within it now. There was only a consummation of deep feeling, and it was one that Peter Pan had so desperately run from years ago. But he would not be so foolish as to make the same mistake twice.

He suddenly pushed her to her back, to look desperately into her face. Did she feel the same? How could she stay there so still before him if she did? But Wendy seemed to him nervous and curious. Her eyes were watching him with deep interest. Her breathing, too, had quickened, and her lips were parted with it. The sight of those lips parted and the warmness that he knew lay within them sent him blind with need. Wendy gasped as he kissed her heavily and suddenly, but kissed him back fervently. She opened her mouth to his, and felt his tongue press passionately to hers. Her hands came around his back to pull him tightly to her, and Peter, too pleased to do so, melted heavily against her. Their skin was no longer cold, and they shared in the tepid heat of their embrace. They lost themselves in each other's arms, giving way to their urges, and quite naturally, they discovered the secret of husbands and wives.

It was certainly not the same act they had been told by adults. It had been described to Wendy as mechanical, and duty. To Peter, it had been described horribly as 'female obligation'. He kissed her in soft appreciation for the things that they had done, and she kissed him back, happy to have consented to it. Peter suddenly felt heavy and tired. He kissed her cheek as he turned to lay next to her. He could not stop looking at her. He felt humbled, and consumed by her. Wendy's eyes were closed, as if in deep thought, but she played softly with his fingers, and even encouraged him to trace her skin with them. Peter found a new appreciation for the softness of her skin. To think, that this wondrous creature belonged to him. He hoped, suddenly, that he had the same effect on her.

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He was happy to find that he had. After their encounter he found she all too willingly bent to kiss him, and her eyes looked him over with great fascination.

The sun had set and the moon shone through the makeshift skylight. It shone unusually bright and full, as if someone had tethered it closer.

They stayed in their home, and Peter occupied himself with many small things such as sharpening his dagger and sorting about the remnants of the lost boys before. Wendy had grown ravenously hungry, and plucked mushrooms from the walls of the home to make into a soup. The smell filled the enclosure and Peter turned curiously to watch her at the little stove. It filled his heart with something… strange and comforting. A deep belonging of some sorts.

"Am I your husband now?" He asked. Wendy stopped stirring the pot and looked back at him. She did not know if this was a proposal. How silly the idea of marriage and proposals seemed in Neverland. They were free from all constraints for society, and she already knew that he loved her.

"Do you swear yourself to me, Peter Pan." She said, straightening a bit.

"Yes, Wendy. I swear myself to you." Peter replied. Wendy smiled at him.

"Then, yes, you are my husband." She said, the word feeling strange.

"Do you swear yourself to me?" Peter asked. She laughed.

"Yes, Peter. I swear myself to you." They stood across the room gazing at each other. Both ignoring the plant in the shoe between them which burgeoned, all at once, a small flower bud.

And it had been done. Their vows, although crude, were binding, even in the laws of the Neverland. Peter had just become what he had feared the most as a child, a husband.


	8. FORBIDDEN (M)

Caution: This is the forbidden chapter. It is RATED M. I am not responsible for your wandering eyes, you have been warned. ;)

Wendy made quick work of crawling back to bed, she was not accustomed to being so brazenly naked. She pulled the blankets over herself. Peter held her to him in the usual way, trying to abate the feelings that had begun to stir wildly within him. But his hands were not easily tamed. They wandered and crawled over the curvature of her hips and waist, over her stomach and breasts. Wendy stood very still, and allowed Peter his tantalizing exploration of her. His hand slipped over her breast and she shivered at the feeling of it. His breathing quickened, his body sent aflame with want. This was not a feeling he was accustomed to. Yes, he had roughly pulled her to him in the past. Yes, he had craved her. But not for the same reasons. Before, he had wanted to claim her, to lock her to him. There was no powerplay, no pride within it now. There was only a consummation of deep feeling, and it was one that Peter Pan had so desperately run from years ago. But he would not be so foolish as to make the same mistake twice.

He suddenly pushed her to her back, to look desperately into her face. Did she feel the same? How could she stay there so still before him if she did? But Wendy seemed to him nervous and curious. Her eyes were watching him with deep interest. Her breathing, too, had quickened, and her lips were parted with it. The sight of those lips parted and the warmness that he knew lay within them sent him blind with need. Wendy gasped as he kissed her heavily and suddenly, but kissed him back fervently. She opened her mouth to his, and felt his tongue press passionately to hers. Her hands came around his back to pull him tightly to her, and Peter, too pleased to do so, melted heavily against her. Their skin was no longer cold, and they shared in the tepid heat of their embrace. Peter held himself over her, feeling his arm quiver from the building excitement within him. Their kisses began to build with hunger, and consuming her mouth was becoming frustratingly not enough for him. He broke from her lips to plant moaning kisses down to her neck, where he bit and nipped at her greedily. Wendy groaned at the sensation. Her head titled to better accommodate him, and her legs quite unconsciously fell open to him. He pressed himself between her, desperately trying to satiate the strange hunger which consumed him. Peter had swollen with lust and he pushed himself against her, wanting more. He found between her a slickness and slid against it, groaning with the pleasure of it. Wendy moaned as he pressed against a terribly sensitive part of her, and her moaning did nothing but encourage him further. Wendy winced. Peter immediately froze.

"Did I hurt you?" He whispered. This was the first time they had spoken since they had silently begun their tentative explorations.

"Gently" Was all Wendy said before she arched herself to softly rub against him. They both knew what act they had begun. In the living world, it was of heavy importance. But in Neverland there seemed to be no consequence to it. It was simply another wild adventure.

Wendy arched herself to press the head of his length to a desperately needing part of her. Peter held very still, as he did not want to hurt her, but was secretly entranced by her pleasuring herself against him. He felt himself slide slowly into her and he breathed heavily at the sensation, at times forgetting to breath at all. She pulsed, slowly consuming him within her and he let out a desperate groan. The feeling was wild and new. Peter shook above her with resolve, but could not stop himself from grinding softly into her. Wendy pulled his face into hers to kiss him deeply. Loosing his focus, he forgot his gentleness and began to pull and push into her, feeling a glorious pleasure build between them. Wendy did not seem to mind, and she became unable to kiss him as she was distracted wholly by the sensation she felt twisting inside of her.

Release, they needed release. They hungered for it, and ravenously they sought it. Peter held her roughly to him and ground deeply into her with clenched teeth. Wendy arched to accommodate him and cried softly as her pleasure mounted dangerously. Peter relished in her cries and he tensely neared his release. Desperately he sought her mouth. He needed to kiss her, now, to show her how deeply… how completely he felt for her. She kissed him passionately and then cried out, her body pulsing with sudden orgasm. Peter buried himself deeply within her and he felt himself come undone. They looked at each other, fascinated by their play as Peter held still within her, feeling the last blissful pulses of their lovemaking.

This was certainly not the same act they had been told by adults. It had been described to Wendy as mechanical, and duty. To Peter, it had been described horribly as 'female obligation'. Wendy lay panting beneath him, her legs shaking from his weight. He kissed her in soft appreciation for the things that they had done, and she kissed him back, happy to have consented to it. Peter suddenly felt heavy and tired. He slowly pulled out from Wendy and she groaned at the separation. He kissed her cheek as he turned to lay next to her. He could not stop looking at her. He felt humbled, and consumed by her. Wendy's eyes were closed, as if in deep thought, but she played softly with his fingers, and even encouraged him to trace her skin with them. Peter found a new appreciation for the softness of her skin. To think, that this wonderous creature belonged to him. He hoped, suddenly, that he had the same effect on her.


End file.
